


Monster Mask

by moonflower



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflower/pseuds/moonflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a few one-shots inspired by Pomplamoose's song Monster Mask - which is brilliant, check it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Could Read A Book

You Could Read a Book

 

Rumpelstiltskin watched as Belle spread her arms wide and spun with joy.

 

“Really? It's all mine?”

 

“Every inch.” He grinned and quickly feigned indifference. “I really don't use it.”  
  
“You don't?” Belle's eyes were already roaming the shelves of the huge library, her hands were twitching at her sides like she couldn't wait to start pulling volumes down and devouring them. “Why ever not? You'll probably have to drag me away from it.”

 

“Oh don't you worry dearie, I will. My meals will still need to be cooked and my straw baskets will need restocking.”

 

“Of course, Rumpelstiltskin.” Belle smiled timidly, coming to stand before him. “I won't neglect my household duties. Thank you, thank you so much for this.”

 

She reached up on her tiptoes to place a chaste kiss on his green-gold cheek. Rumpelstiltskin felt his face heat and cleared his voice.

  
“Yes. Well. I hope there will be something of interest here for you, nothing is in order and I dare say a lot of it is rubbish...”

 

But she was already skimming the spines of the books closest to her, small smile playing on her lips. He watched as she pulled a red-covered volume of the shelf with a cry of surprise and joy. She opened the book and caressed the pages almost lovingly. Rumpelstiltskin had to forcibly stop his thoughts from wandering to other things she could caress that way.

 

“This is one of my favourites.” She looked at him, eyes shining. “The hero in disguise, the brave heroine and the battles they faced together...it's brilliant.”

 

“I'm glad you found something dearie, though I can't say I see the appeal in that sort of a fantasy.”

 

“Oh but that _is_ the appeal!” Belle exclaimed. “Getting lost in these worlds of magic and adventure and happy endings...it's escapism.”

 

“Escapism?” Rumpelstiltskin murmured, wondering exactly what Belle had to escape from before the ogres and the Dark One entered her life.

 

“Can-can I show you?” She held out her hand shyly and to his own surprise Rumpelstiltskin placed his scaly one in hers. She dragged him to the small couch near the library's fireplace and sat him down before arranging herself comforably next to him. Belle opened the book and cleared her throat.

 

“Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle.”

 

She was curling into him, her hair was close enough to tickle his neck and the scent of roses was driving him mad. Why hadn't he left her to it? Why couldn't he resist watching her face light up?

 

“Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish and unkind...”

 

Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes and let her words wash over him, giving into the simple pleasure of having her close.


	2. You Could Learn to Cook

You Could Learn to Cook

Belle placed his dinner plate in front of him with a fourish.

“Ta-da! Roasted pheasant, one of my land's signature dishes.” Her eyes shone with pride and excitement.

Rumpelstiltskin picked up his fork and poked at the steaming bird uncertainly. “Are you entirely sure it's properly cooked?”

Belle glared at him. True, her last few attempts at cooking had been just short of disastrous. In fact if Rumpelstiltskin hadn't shown up at the most oppurtune moment at breakfast, she may have burned the kitchen down along with the stables next to it.

She sighed. “Look, I'll try mine first.” She disappeared briefly and came back with her own meal, pouring them both a cup of wine before sitting. She cut into the pheasant slowly and was relieved to see it white all the way through, not a hint of pink. Delicately, Belle took a piece in her mouth and groaned with pleasure at the explosion of rosemary and garlic in her mouth.

“Mm.” Rumpelstiltskin made an odd noise at the back of his throat but cut a piece for himself. To his amazement the bird was tender and finely spiced, it left his mouth salivating for more. He looked up at Belle to see her biting her lip, anxious to please him. “Belle – this is fantastic.”

She clapped her hands with glee and smiled broadly. “I'm glad. I was beginning to think cooking was beyond my skills.”

“Not at all.” Rumpelstiltskin said around a large piece of breast. “It's delicious.”

Belle laughed at his enthusiasm and returned to her own meal, enjoying the small taste of home. They chatted pleasantly about the latest book Belle was reading, Rumpelstiltskin always got a blow by blow account of the action at each meal, Belle liked to guess what was going to happen next and couldn't gloat about being right unless he knew the story. He asked her advice on certain political situations around the realm. Growing up in her father's war-torn land had given Belle an astonishingly cynical view of politics but as merciless as her she was, she was always fair and never spoke rashly. Her father's lands, her lands, lay near three large kingdoms and as such she learned diplomacy and made alliances. Eventually their plates were clean and the wine bottle was empty. Belle collected their plates and cutlery and stood awkwardly next to Rumpelstiltskin's chair.

“What is it, dearie?” He could tell she wanted to ask something, something that would probably upset him because the only time her conversation was hesitant was when she was unsure of how he would react. Perhaps this was it, perhaps tonight would be the night she would ask to be released from his company. From his life. “All this fine food making you homesick?”

“Oh.” Belle looked at the plates. “Well, yes, but that wasn't what I was going to say.”

Rumpelstiltskin drummed his fingernails on the table. “What were you going to say?”

Belle looked at him through lowered lashes shyly. “Usually, at home, pheasant is followed by my favourite dessert but...well, I can't quite work out how to bring it to the table so I was wondering if you would come to the kitchen with me? I promise it's as delicous as the main course.”

She looked so hopeful, those blue eyes shining and she wanted to spend _more_ time with him, not less! “It's highly unorthodox for meals to be taken in the kitchen, dearie.”

“Oh I know.” Belle grinned at him as if she'd won already, she must have seen the curiosity burning in his eyes. “But it's worth it.”

“I'll be the one decding that, dearie.” He followed her into the kitchen, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Belle placed their plates in the large stone sink and turned to the fire, poking at a small pot she had placed high in the fireplace. Rumpelstiltskin peered over her shoulder but was unimpressed with the thick, light brown liquid inside.

“It looks disgusting.” He took a step back. “Trying to poison the monster, dearie?”  
  
“No actually,” Belle replied nonchalantly. “Trying to sweeten him up.”

“Sweet-” Before he could retort Belle had turned, spoon in hand and shoved some of the liquid into his mouth. His nose wrinkled but then the warm liquid met his taste buds and he moaned. It was sweet and smooth and smelled amazing, like cocoa.

“Chocolate fondue.” Belle looked at him smugly. “Want some more?”  
  
Rumpelstiltskin leaned forward eagerly as Belle lifted the lid off a tray near by which she had obviously prepared earlier. It was covered with strawberries, cherries, and blueberries. She speared a strawberry and dipped it in the fondue, trying to get as much chocolate as she could on the small fruit.

“Open wide.” She said in a sing-song voice.

He did as she asked and she placed the strawberry on his lower lip. He bit into it and was instantly overcome by the sweet and tangy taste of the fruit combined with the warm chocolate. It was scrumptious. The blush that spread over Belle's porcelain cheeks and the way she stared at the red stain which must have adorned his green lips was unexpected. She looked away when he gave her a confused head tilt but all the same her eyes were drawn back to his mouth. Rumpelstiltskin was flustered as no-one had looked at him like that before, not even his wife. He hadn't felt for centuries for anything or anyone but Bae. It was overwhelming. He stood abruptly and walked out of the kitchen.

“Hey!” Belle protested as he closed the door behind him without a word and left her alone by the fireplace.

 


	3. You Could Watch TV

You Could Watch TV

The whistling echoed around the dining room, grating on Rumpelstiltskin’s last nerve, his claws tensed around his spinning wheel. The girl had been a nuisance all day, following him around and singing, even letting herself into his lab to ‘tidy up.’ Now she was sitting on the table whistling some ridiculous, repetitive tune whilst swinging her legs against one of his chairs in time to the song. It was driving him mental. How was he supposed to relax into his spinning while she was creating such a racket? He turned from his wheel to see her grinning at him cheekily.  
  
“Belle! If you insist on being in the same room as me, could you kindly cease that awful noise?”

“But I’m _bored_.” Belle pouted.

“Go clean something.” Rumpelstiltskin waved a hand at her.

  
“There’s nothing _to_ clean, everything is shining.”

Rumpelstiltskin looked around the room and to his dismay, she was right. All of his possessions were practically sparkling, the fires were well stocked and his straw basket was almost overflowing. They had just finished their midday meal so it would be hours before she needed to be in the kitchen to prepare dinner.

“Why don’t you go pick a new book?”  
  
“I’ve been reading for days…I’m just not in the mood.” Belle pulled a face then stretched her arms above her head and lay back on the table so Rumpelstiltskin was essentially having a conversation with her knees. “I’ve read so much that my eyes are making all the words on the page blur together.”  
  
This was highly unusual behaviour. Belle was generally happy and able to occupy herself and if she was refusing to read it was unlikely that Rumpelstiltskin could give her a suitable form of entertainment. He drummed his fingers on his stool, trying to think of something other than banishing her back to the dungeon.

“Why don’t you tell me a story?” Belle’s knees asked him. “Surely you’d be able to spin me a tale.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. Unfortunately she couldn’t be further from the truth. Even as a father he hadn’t been much of a bedtime story teller. That made him think of Bae and he felt his throat close. He gulped, pushing the last image of his son's pleading face away and walked over to Belle.  
  
“I’m afraid I’m not much of a story-teller, dearie.” Not much of a father, not much of a husband, only a monster. And here was a pretty maiden, laid out on his table like some sort of sacrifice.

“There must be something you can amuse me with. Stories of deals gone wrong? Of mysterious lands? You can tell me about all your curious little knick-knacks that I dust day after day.”

Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes immediately went to the puppets on display near the window. No, he didn’t think Belle needed to hear that. She knew he was a fiend but that story may just shatter the delicate companionship they’d formed. He looked back at Belle who was lying with her hands beneath her head, breathing deeply. Her casual pose reminded him of the nights he and Bae would lie in the fields…oh. Inspiration hit. Rumpelstiltskin grinned and sharply flicked both his hands inward, calling on his power. The curtains flew over the windows and the fireplace dimmed. Lettting out a little squeak Belle sat up, startled.  
  
“Scared of being in the dark with a monster, dearie?” Rumpelstiltskin blended into the shadows, faint gold flickering on his skin the only movement. His eyes were closed, not that she could see them, as he concentrated on what he wanted his magic to do.

“Of course not.” Belle scoffed, trying to cover her squeal. “There are no monsters here. Anyway the dark is all the better for telling ghost stories.”

“No ghost stories, dearie. I’m simply going to teach you something.” The girl was indeed brave, brave Belle. His brave Belle. He heard her give a sharp intake of breath at his words and grinned. She was a little afraid. Or excited. Probably afraid. He loomed over her, taking care to let his fingers brush hers as he turned and joined her on the table, imitating her position from before.  
“What are you doing Rumpelstiltskin?” Belle sat tall above him, brown hair cascading down her back and white teeth flashing in the half-light.

“Come see.” He teased, patting the table beside him.  
  
Shrugging, Belle rearranged her skirts then lay back beside him, her head pillowed on his left arm. He wasn’t expecting that but any contact with Belle's soft hair was a plus in his book.

“Wow.” Belle let out a soft breath of awe at what she saw on the ceiling above her. There in the darkness sparkled a million dancing points of light. An exact replica of the night sky Rumpelstiltskin and Bae had stared up at centuries ago, pointing out pictures in the stars. “What is it? That’s not our night sky. Rum…it's beautiful. ”

He was just as mesmerized as her, not even noticing her shorten his name into a moniker. “It was the night sky, a few hundred years ago. This was the night sky I looked upon before…” Rumpelstiltskin's mind wandered to the nights he spent with Bae as a mortal man, so long ago that he coiuld barely remember what it was like to be that weak, that vulnerable.

“Before what?” Belle's voice was soft, understanding...but he couldn't tell her. Not yet.

“Before I was burdened with an estate carer who can’t occupy themselves for an hour or so.” He snapped. Belle just laughed.  
“Well, well, who got the better end of our deal then?” She turned her face up to his, the movement causing her entire body to press up against his side. “It really is extraordinary magic, Rum.”  
Her blue eyes shone earnestly and he found himself smiling back at her. “Thank you, pet. If you look closely you can see Neverland. It was a bit more prominent back in the day.”

“Where?” Belle stuck an arm in the air in front of her, pointing gracefully. “That bluey coloured star?”

“Not that one, dearie.” He placed his hand on hers and pointed further to the right. “The second star to the right, straight on till morning. Haven’t you heard the rhymes?”

“No.” Belle smiled softly. “My mother was always the one to tell me my bed-time stories about Peter Pan. Once I lost her they petered out, you could say.”

“Ah I see.” Rumpelstiltskin could feel the warmth of her skin against his scales as she dropped their arms to his side, moving her head closer to his in the dark. “Well, I can’t say I have met the boy personally but he does have a fearsome adversary.”

“Captain Hook? You’ve met him?” Belle asked sleepily.

“Once or twice. Nothing to boast about.”

Comfortable silence crept over them, monster and beauty holding hands beneath the stars of old.


	4. You Could Climb A Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Once Upon a Time nor any Disney characters, I just like to frolic in their world. Also, no beta so all mistakes are mine and mine alone :)

You Could Climb a Tree

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his head from side to side. He had been working for hours straight, trying to use his precognition to find an unfortunate soul tainted enough to use his curse. It was tiring work, visions of possible futures flooded his mind and concentrating on the most evil of deeds wasn't helping. Even the Dark One himself could become despondent. He stretched his arms above his head and unfolded his long legs, trying to shake some feeling back into them. As he did so he heard a clatter of china and opened his eyes reluctantly to see a pot of cold tea and his favourite chipped cup. Belle must have brought it up to the tower for him when he missed their midday meal. Smiling softly Rumpelstiltskin flexed his magic; searching for the spark of life that was Belle. The corners of his mouth lifted involuntarily when he pinpointed her location to the library. Of course, where else would she be? His half-smile soon vanished however when he felt the shadowy tinge over Belle's normally sunny aura.

Something had upset her. Rum thought over his actions of the last few days but could find nothing that would warrant the gloominess that hung over his maid. Nevertheless, that did not mean that he wasn't to blame. He still vividly remembered the evening she had all but struck him in a rage after he dog-eared the pages of his favourite pages in one of her poetry books. His poetry book! It was his library after all but somehow she had claimed ownership of that room and everything in it. Not that he minded, the dusty books held little interest for him until she came along and brought the place to life. It was probably the most welcoming, comforting room in the castle now. Definitely not the place for Belle to be feeling so sad in. With as little effort as breathing, Rum was at the doorway of the library, his eyes immediately focusing on Belle. By God, she was beautiful. She sat at the wide, padded windowsill; book held limply in her lap, clearly forgotten about. Sunlight poured in the open window illuminating her profile in a golden halo. Her face was wistful, unshed tears glittering in her sky-blue eyes. It wasn't right. His things were always well-looked after, always tended to. Belle should not be unhappy.

“Belle?” His voice was soft but she started regardless.

“Oh. Rum. Am I late with tea? Sorry.” Belle smiled at him, though her eyes still glistened with tears.

“Not at all dearie.” He dismissed her apology with a flourish of his hand. “I a finding it difficult to work with the enormous cloud of sorrow surrounding you.”

“I'm so sorry my unhappiness is bothering you.” She said dryly. “A constantly sunny nature wasn't part of our deal, Rum.”

That stung him more than it should have. “Of course not, pet. I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to help.” Belle raised a disbelieving eyebrow at that. He cleared his throat. “So I can continue my work unhindered, obviously.”

Her eyes sparkled with something that was not tears this time, it seemed to Rum something akin to mirth. “Obviously. Well there is something...a small favour?” The hope in her voice was almost painful.

“What is it dearie? Do you wish to attend a ball? A date with a prince? A golden unicorn?”

She giggled. “All fine suggestions, Rum, but my request is a little easier to fulfill.”

“Hey!” He pulled a wounded face. “I can get you a golden unicorn anything you want.”

Rum enjoyed seeing her smile, even if she was rolling her eyes at him. He walked to the window and joined her on the sill, back to the outside world so he could see her properly.

“I just...” Belle began, looking at her hands. She frowned slightly when she noticed she was wringing them and lifted her chin to look him in the eyes. “I miss outside. True, I have fresh air and get to feel the sun on my skin here but....I miss the grass beneath my feet, I miss the sound of a running stream and of leaves blowing in the wind. I miss my orchard back in Avonlea. I miss dandelions and daffodils and lilies. I miss sunflowers as tall as I am and tiny peonies. I want to be out there. That great wide somewhere.” She gestured out the open window, panting a little after her rant and biting her lower lip, unsure of how he was going to react.

“Well, I don't know about that great wide somewhere.” Rum tapped his maid on the nose affectionately. “You might try to escape again.”

Belle pouted. “That was one time! And it was only to see if I could do it. I wouldn't have actually left.”  
Rum snorted. “You wouldn't have run away from the old monster who ripped you from friends and family? I find that hard to believe, pet.”

“I wouldn't have dishonoured our agreement.” Belle retorted angrily. “You're not the only one who doesn't break deals, Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Yes. Well.” He spluttered, taken aback by her passionate answer. “I do, in fact, have an orchard of sorts...if you would care to see it?”

Her smile beamed brighter than the sunlight he had so long denied himself. “Really, Rum? Really?”

“Yes, really.” He grinned back.

“Oh thank you, thank you!” Belle flung her arms around his neck, ignoring her book clattering to the floor and held him tight for a brief second. Rumpelstiltskin didn't move, staying completely stiff and still until she released him. “What sort of orchard is it?”

“Well, calling it an orchard is a bit of a stretch.” He stood and leant down so he was cheek to cheek with Belle. “See out to the west there, rows of pink and purple trees?”

Belle shook her head lightly, causing her soft skin to rub lightly against his scales and he shivered, pulling away quickly.

“Perhaps it is too far away to see with mortal eyes. I have passionfruit vines out there, rows of them interspersed with jacaranda and cherry blossom trees.”

“Jacarandas?” Belle clapped in delight. “They were my favourite climbing trees when I was a girl.”

“No time to lose then.” Rum pulled her off the seat and grabbed her firmly by the waist. “Hold on tight, dearie.”

Belle barely had time to grab onto the crocodile-skin lapels of his jacket when, with a flourish of his hand and a high-pitched giggle, they were standing in a sea of pink and purple. Rumpelstiltskin watched in amusement as Belle spun around, arms outstretched with her head tilted towards the sun. She was stunning, being outside seemed to revitalise her, the heavy cloud of despondence had lifted. Smiling beatifically, Belle grabbed his hands and spun him with her despite his complaints. She merely laughed and spun them faster until they tripped over their own feet and collapsed onto the carpet of petals, breathing hard. Belle leant up on one elbow and looked at him, mischief in her eyes. He sat up and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Last one to the top of that jacaranda has to wash dishes tonight!” She squealed, pushing him back against the ground and bolting for the nearest tree.

~*~

Later that night, after she had cleaned the dishes and convinced Rumpelstiltskin to read aloud to her by the fireplace, Belle crawled into bed to find a small plush unicorn made out of gold thread with a note:

 

_No request is too hard to fill._

 


	5. You Could Have a Beer

You Could Have a Beer

Belle sighed as she looked around the tower. Rumpelstiltskin had a system that she wasn't supposed to mess with. She knew that. But she also knew he couldn't possibly work well in this mess of an environment and that the first time he misplaced something, or tripped over, it would be her fault for not cleaning thoroughly. Belle glanced at his desk but immediately rejected the idea of starting there, that was where Rumpelstiltskin kept his current projects. Instead she picked up the five empty bottles near the window and frowned when one sloshed slightly. Delicately, Belle held the bottle to her nose and sniffed. The grin that broke on her face was more than mischievous as she recognised the heavy scent of mead. She had occassionally snuck a sip or two at various parties before the war began and Marchlanders such as herself had a reputation for being able to hold their liqour. Without pausing to think that perhaps drinking from an unmarked bottle in an enchanter's tower wasn't a wise move, Belle downed the lot...  
~*~  
“Rumpelschtiltskin...Grumplemschkin...Rumpel...Rum...Rum. Rum, rum, rum, rum, um-oof.” Belle tripped over nothing and giggled at herself. “Oof. Your name ish funny Stiltman.”  
Belle was drunk. Very drunk. And Rumpelstiltskin wasn't exactly sure how it had happened.  
“It is dearie, yes. I have others that are easier to say...it's not the only name I have, you know.”  
“I know.” She said with as much derision as possible while trying to hold herself up with his coat. “They call you the Schpinner. 'Cause you schpin. I could've called you Schkinner! 'Cause that one time you told me to schkin the children but you didn't mean it. It was a..." Belle blinked at him with those blue eyes, frowning. "What was it?”  
“A quip, pet.” Rumpelstiltskin gave up on trying to support her down the hallway to her room and scooped her up in his arms.  
“Weeeeeeee!” She laughed in his face, her breath stank strongly of honey-sweetened mead. “That's right, a kw-kw-quip. Ka-wip. Words are funny.”  
“They are, dearie.” He agreed absentmindedly. He didn't have any mead in the castle.  
"But I like them." Belle continued, swaying her airborne feet up and down. "Saying words, reading words, listening to words...will you read to me, Rum?"  
No mead. No mead at all. Except...he groaned. “Have you been playing in my laboratory, pet?”  
“Your laboratory needed to be cleaned.” She glared at him, bleary eyed. Belle released one of her hands from around his neck and poked him in the chest. “You are a pig, Rumpum. There is schtuff eeeevvvvverywhere.”  
“There is not.” Rumpelstiltskin was so offended he momentarily forgot what he was questioning her about. “It's organised chaos.”  
Belle giggled again. “Na-uh. It's a mess. Mess, mess, mess. That's why I got rid of them.”  
“Got rid of what, Belle?”  
“Alll the bottles. All empty...well, mostly empty.” She closed one eye and brought her fingers up to her face, pinching them tight. “One bottle had thiiiiiiis much in it.”  
“A green one, I suppose?” Rum sighed. That was his special blend. It took a lot of alcohol to seep through the Dark One's power and make him forget but he had concocted a drink to do just that. Who knew how long that bottle had been sitting up there, fermenting and growing more potent? “You know dearie, it isn't wise to go sticking your nose into my potions, let alone drinking them.” He reprimanded, tweaking the offending nose as he spoke.  
“Didn't drink a potion.” Belle trilled. “Drank some mead. Not a lot. Had more...had more at Shnow's coming out party.”  
“Snow's coming...you know Snow White?” Rum eyebrows shot up.  
“Yep, yep.” Belle smiled. “Not so many well born girls in this land as you might think. We used to play in the shtables when her parents visited. No more visits once her mother died though.” Belle's face scrunched and the dramatic change would have been funny had she not looked so sad. “Her mother, my mother, your boy's mother all gone...gone gone away. Why do they go, Rum?”  
Rum edged his way through the door to her bedroom and lay her down on the bed, giving himself time to think about how to answer. “Sometimes, pet, people are taken from us. Unfairly and without rhyme or reason. Sometimes people leave us, maybe because we deserve it and maybe because they do. Sometimes,” He pushed her hair off her face. “Sometimes we push people away because we don't want to get hurt.”  
“That's shilly.” Belle yawned. “Pushing away hurts both people.”  
“It does, pet.” Rum stroked her hair as her eyes drifted shut and her breathing took on the too regular pattern of sleep. “But sometimes, it saves one of them.”


	6. You Could Volunteer

You Could Volunteer

The hall was quiet, flames flickered gently in the grand fireplace and Belle was contentedly curled in Rumpelstiltskin's chair with her latest novel. He had gone off on one of his deals ( _I don't know how long I'll be gone, pet. Keep the place clean and stay out of mischief_ ) and he would tease her mercilessly if he knew Belle sat in his chair just to feel close to him when he wasn't there. She sighed happily and turned the page, losing herself in the adventure of a swashbuckling heroine taking on the mighty kraken. She had left the windows open, enjoying the spring air and the gentle sounds of nature as she read. It wasn't long however, before her peace was disturbed by the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Hasty hoofbeats. Belle's brow furrowed, no-one came near Rumpelstiltskin's castle with horses. No-one except enemies. They were close, almost at the gate. Belle held her breath, any second now they would encounter Rumpelstiltskin's magical barrier. That would be one hell of a mess, horse and rider. She braced herself for the scream of the horse and the crushing of bones...but it never came. The hoofbeats just got closer. She jumped off the chair and whirled to face the doors as they crashed open revealing a snorting caramel-coloured steed with a scarlet-hooded rider.

 

“Who are you?” Belle asked, proud of the way her voice didn't shake. They got past Rum's security system, it was either a friend or a very powerful enemy. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Now, now dearie.” Came the high-pitched reply. “Is that any way to greet your master?”

 

“Rum!” Belle's heart fluttered and she ran to the beast's side, reaching up to take Rumpelstiltskin's coat. “You scared the living daylights out of me.”

 

“I _am_ the Dark One, pet. The occasional fright is part and parcel of being my caretaker I'm afraid.” The horse was still snorting and prancing anxiously. “Quiet, horse.”

 

“Where did you get him?” Belle asked as she stroked the velvet softness of the horse's nose. “Calm down, you handsome boy.”

 

“I'm perfectly calm.” Rumpelstiltskin quipped as he dismounted in one graceful movement.

 

“Mmhmm.” His housekeeper replied distractedly. “Hardly a boy though, are you?”

 

“You're only as old as the woman you feel, pet.” He petted her playfully on her behind and she let out a startled squeak.

 

“Rum!” Belle swiped a hand at his disappearing form, the twinkle in her eye taking the sting out of her admonishment. “Where. Did you get. The horse?”

 

“Oh him.” Rumpelstiltskin crouched by the flames, holding his hands out. “Traded him in a deal, of course.”

 

“You dealt a horse out from underneath someone, didn't you?” Belle said with equal parts resignation and reproach.

 

“I demand a fair price for the magic that's needed dearie, you know that.”

 

“Tell that to whoever you left wandering around without a horse. They were undoubtedly on an important quest too.”

 

“Undoubtedly.” Rum agreed pleasantly. Belle knew then that he had indeed got the better end of the deal. He was never this agreeable if he made an even swap.

 

“And I suppose Philip is to be added to my list of chores?”

 

“Philip?” Rumpelstiltskin turned to her sharply. “Who, pray tell, is Philip?”

 

“The horse.” Belle gestured to the huge animal now chewing disinterestedly on the curtains. “I named him Philip.”

 

“I don't think he's a Philip. He might be a Lloyd.”

 

“You can't name a horse Lloyd.”

  
  
“But Philip is _so_ horsey.” Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes. “Why not just name him Caramel or something obvious like that?”

 

“Too late, Philip it is. And you know the importance of names, don't you Rum?” All she got in reply was a snort of derision. “That's what I thought. Very well, I shall take him to the stables.”

 

“You do that, pet. You do that.”


End file.
